Page 6 of A Baby For Her Billionaire BFF

She tilts her head. “Ollie, you’re not like the other guys. You’re smarter, more focused. You’re gonna make something of yourself.”

My chest swells, both from the compliment and her close proximity. She smells so good, and while I’ve wondered a thousand times what it would be like to touch her waist or her neck, not once have I ever believed it could really happen. But here she is, looking at me with big doe eyes.

Heat surges through my body, and I have to work to calm my breathing. “You’re the one who’s really something,” I say. “Nora…”

She leans in, her face inches from mine, her eyes searching. My pulse hammers as I realize what’s happening; we’re teetering on the edge of something new, something thrilling. I want to close that gap, taste the punch on her lips and confirm what’s been simmering between us for so long.

But as her lips part slightly, as I start leaning in too, a voice inside me screams caution. This is Nora, my friend, my confidant. Can I risk it all on a maybe?

And — even worse — can I afford to be distracted? I’ve seen it happen to friends in high school and classmates in college. They fall head over heels for a girl and forget everything else. Their grades drop, they stop volunteering, and their shiny futures start to dim.

Do I really want to be like those guys, or do I want to break the cycle of poverty in my family? Make something unprecedented of myself?

“Sorry,” I blurt, pulling back just enough to break the spell. “I think I need some air.”

Her expression falters, confusion and hurt flashing across her features before she masks it with a small, understanding smile.

“Sure,” she whispers. “I’ll be here.”

I nod, turning away to navigate through the crowd, the cool night breeze calling my name. In the safety of distance, I battle the twisting guilt and longing. What am I doing?

The music from the speakers throbs in my chest, a mocking reminder of the heartbeat I was so acutely aware of mere moments ago. This isn’t me. I don’t get lost in moments, not when there are plans to be made and goals to achieve.

“Ollie, wait!” Her voice cuts through the cacophony, grounding me despite my resolve to leave.

I turn, and there she is, threading her way after me, her eyes a mix of concern and something else — regret?

“Nora,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel, “I can’t do this right now.”

“Can’t do what?” Her forehead creases, and she’s looking at me with that piercing gaze that sees too much.

“Us,” I say, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. “There is no us. With finals coming up, I… I need to focus.”

“Oliver…” She exhales, a strand of hair falling across her face. She brushes it aside, a gesture so familiar it aches. “I know. It’s probably for the best, anyway.” There’s a forced lightness in her tone, but I hear the undercurrent of disappointment. “We’re graduating soon. We’ll be parting ways.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Parting ways. As if our late-night study sessions and shared jokes could be swept away by a change in geography. As if what I feel for her could just dissipate into thin air. But the reality is harsher than the fantasy, and I know that whatever this is — or could be — it’s not worth the risk of derailing everything I’ve worked for.

“Right,” I manage, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Parting ways.”

She gives me a small, sad smile, and in her eyes, I see the reflection of my own resignation. “Yeah. So… take care, Ollie.”

Wait. What? That’s it? Because we didn’t kiss tonight, she doesn’t want to see me anymore?

Just like that, gone are our study sessions and long walks around campus dreaming about the future. One moment has changed everything, and now she wants nothing to do with me.

My whole body stiffens. I refuse to let her see just how much she’s hurting me. I’m better than this, destined for something greater than a girl at school hurting my feelings.

“Take care, Nora.” The words are automatic, but they feel like a lie. Because caring for Nora has become as natural as breathing, and I don’t know how to stop.

Turning away from her, I push through the door and out into the cool night. The music dulls to a faint pulse behind me, but the ringing in my ears is all too loud. I walk without direction, the impact of what just happened pressing down on me.

I should’ve stayed home, buried in textbooks and lecture notes. Instead, I came here to a party where I never belonged, chasing a dream that was never mine to catch. And now, with the taste of “almost” on my lips and Nora’s disappointed eyes etched into my memory, I wish I’d never come at all.

The campus is quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside. I barely register the path back to my dorm, my mind replaying every moment, every misstep. When I finally reach my room, I close the door with a finality that echoes in the empty space.

Alone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. It’s done. Whatever foolishness tonight brought, it ends now. Tomorrow is another day — a day for studying, for preparing, for moving forward.

And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve left something important behind. Something that, once lost, I might never find again.

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